


All of the Above

by emmaliza



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Crack, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, F/M, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Light Angst, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Porn and Humor, Seduction, Sex Toys, Slut Shaming, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, gatehouse ami is the best/worst influence, sort of infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 01:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12400605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: Robb has to choose a wife from among the Frey girls, even if he'd rather keep the two lovers he has.Luckily, a solution presents itself.





	All of the Above

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the asoiaf kink meme prompt: "Amerei/Robb, + Jon and/or Theon. He married her hoping he could keep the other one in his bed. Ami is quite all right with this."
> 
> Takes place in an AU where Jon doesn't go to the wall, Theon doesn't betray Robb, etc. And logically it most likely takes place after they win the war, but like, this isn't the sort of fic where logic is a particularly close companion anyway.

Robb has to bite down on his cloak to keep from screaming and waking the whole camp. Theon laughs and smacks his arse, pulling him down further onto his length while Jon huffs like an animal in Robb's ear and slams his cock in and out brutally, making him whimper and shiver. Tears spring to his eyes. They don't usually do this in the mornings, it just takes too long, but today Jon and Theon had a silent agreement (they never agree on anything aloud) that he was taking both their cocks, as hard and as fast as they could give them. Robb didn't feel particularly inclined to protest.

“That's it, whore,” Theon whispers as he squeezes Robb's cheeks, spreading them wider. “Can't get enough of this, can you? Can't get enough cock. Your poor blushing bride can't compete.”

Robb makes a choked noise. He knows why Jon and Theon are doing this now, more than simple lust (not that they haven't done this to him before): they're jealous. Jealous, and scared. For today's the day he's off to pick his wife from among the Frey women, when his betrothal goes from being an abstract commitment to a chimera of a woman, to a solemn vow to be faithful to one girl alone. Robb doesn't want to give his two lovers up. And he realises it's a bit silly to start worrying about his honour now, given he's been fucking two men for months, one of whom is his half-brother. But still, he's not sure he could do that to his wife, and he thinks the both of them know that.

But while he still doesn't have a bride per se, they're all taking what they can get, and _oh god_ it feels good. Theon's right; he loves having two cocks in his arse, plowing him senseless, making him feel like the greediest sort of whore and as soon as Theon stops spreading his arse he's reaching back to do it himself. If it weren't for the cloak in his mouth he'd be moaning _more, harder, faster_ – the cloak his mother's sewing for his wife-to-be, and he knows it shouldn't make him harder using it here, but hopefully the poor girl won't notice any toothmarks. Theon wanted to make him wear his crown as well, but Jon pointed out there was a good chance one of them would lose an eye like that.

“Robb,” Jon moans in his ear, always less vocal than Theon, but his body conveys much the same message. He slaps Robb's arse _hard_ , making it red, wanting to leave marks. He digs his nails into Robb's sides. It's stupid, but Jon is possessive, and wants to leave a trace that Robb was once _his_. Even if Robb could bring himself to dishonour his wife, he's not sure Jon could.

He moans helplessly as he just keeps taking their cocks, hard and fast and making his hole ache, squeezing tight as if it's soaking up every last moment of being stuffed like this. The thought of never having this again makes Robb want to sob, but he's a king, and sacrifices must be made. He wants to make it last longer, but he's always been weak for having _both_ of them, and even if they never touch his cock he's still wet and leaking all over Theon's chest. With a strangled groan he releases, clenching tight around the two of them and making a mess of himself, Theon and the bed.

It doesn't take long until their sharp, gasping breaths reach a crescendo, and their movements stop as they both simultaneously thrust in as deep as they can, and then Robb can feel the both of them pulsing inside him as they spill their seed. He whimpers as he feels it fill up his arse, and he has always been guiltily addicted to the substance itself – the feel, the taste, the simple knowledge he's been marked with it. For a moment, he even indulges the fantasy that they could get him pregnant like this, make him carry around one of their bastards. He sighs deeply. _Don't be stupid. That is not your role._

Their seed leaks wildly from his loose hole once they pull out, and he unwittingly clenches, trying to keep more of it inside. Theon grins up at him. “So, feel ready for the big day now, your grace?”

Robb rolls his eyes at that, spitting out the cloak to answer (and trying not to get any come on it). “I'll have to wash first,” he says, while Jon presses gentle kisses to his shoulders.

“Right you are. Still, before you go about making yourself pretty, I have a present for you.”

Robb frowns, puzzled. Theon leans to the side, almost falling off the bed and taking the other two of them with him, but he manages to reach underneath and pull up – something.

He blinks at it, at first thinking it some sort of small figurine, like the sort his mother uses to pray – except there's no _figure_ , it's just black polished stone, with a curved small top that widens along the length of it, then tapers in again, before a flared base.

Behind him, Jon makes an embarrassed noise. “Theon!” And then Robb turns red as he finally realises what the thing is for.

Theon just laughs at them. “Come on, Snow. We just double-teamed your brother so hard he'll be limping all day regardless, but you're going to play the blushing maid now?” he teases, and it's hard to deny he has a point there. “You know how much he loves being filled up. This is just to help.”

Robb's jaw hangs open. He wonders if this is his final gift, since they can't fuck him anymore he's being given the means to do it himself, which his bride will probably mind far less – and he wants to explain that that doesn't really solve the problem. Yes, he's going to miss being fucked, but moreover he's going to miss _them_.

The thought gets blown off course however when Theon starts reaching for the cheeks of his arse again, the plug in one hand. Robb makes an alarmed noise. “What – now?!”

“Yes, your grace,” says Theon, smirking all the while. Jon grunts in irritation.

“Theon, if we get caught and lose the Frey marriage because of you, I–”

“Will whine like a little bitch, oh no, how will I cope?” Theon drawls, and Robb can practically hear Jon glaring over his shoulder. “Come on, Snow, don't pretend you don't want what I want.” Robb gasps shallowly as he feels the head of the thing teasing at his sore, loose entrance. _Which is?_ “I want him to feel us all day. Walk around with a king with a little reminder of what a whore he is lodged up his arse. Our seed swirling about in there. When he picks out the girl he's going to fuck for the rest of his life, I want him to be thinking about how much he loves getting fucked by _us_.”

Jon doesn't say anything to that, but after a moment's pause, he grabs the cheeks of Robb's arse too – and spreads them wide. Theon grins. “Good boy,” he says, and pushes the plug straight inside, making Robb cry out and his hole flutter helplessly around it. It's smaller than either of their pricks, let alone the two combined, but Robb's hole is sore and sensitive enough that it makes him moan dangerously loudly.

“That's it, that's our pretty king,” Theon whispers as he settles it down to the base, making Robb rock his hips to adjust to the sensation, being breached with something so cold and hard and inhuman. “Now go find a girl who thinks you're just as fuckable as we do.”

* * *

The ride to the Twins is, not to put too fine a point on it, hell. It might be easier if they could ride faster – like that he might end up coming before he even has time to think about it – but as is the slow, steady pace of the steed below him keeps jolting the plug into him so irregularly, that if it were Theon's, or Jon's, or both's cock in him he would snap about the teasing. It's enough to make him want to squirm until he can give himself a proper fucking, but for all his perversions he's not willing to do that to himself on top of a poor defenseless horse. He knows he looks a mess too, sweating and shaking, but he hopes the rest of his party will think that's just nerves. Although his mother does come riding up to him, quietly asking if he's ill, so maybe it's not going that well.

He's deeply relieved once they finally make it to the castle and he can dismount – although his prick does not get to share in that relief. He chose thick woollen trousers and a long leather jerkin to wear, which should keep anyone from seeing his hardness that keeps coming and going, but mostly the former, but conversely keeps him painfully restrained. They also make him feel even hotter than he would have otherwise. Still, it's easier standing, when there is not the same pressure on his sore, stuffed hole (with what they did to him this morning, he probably would have had trouble sitting even without the plug). He manages to make courtesies with Lord Walder, and smile at his various sons and other relatives japes, no matter how crude and unfunny they may be. He does have to smother a groan when someone slaps his back though. Gods, if they all found out why he's in such a state...

Of course, he can't actually stand long; he's soon invited to luncheon, and so has to bite his lip as he sits and hide the surge of pleasure that goes through him. _How did I let Theon talk me into this?_ he wonders, then he recalls that it didn't actually take much talking at all. Still, from that point he does his best to stay as still as possible, not agitating the plug any further. And to pay attention to what he's actually here to deal with: the Frey girls.

Across from him is Roslin, the prettiest of the lot, the obvious choice and the one his mother keeps subtly steering towards. She's shy, slim and they say she has a talent for the high harp – she's six and ten, and clearly a maid if ever there was one. She's the obvious choice, but Robb can imagine her being heartbroken if she knew the sorts of things he's done, he likes – what he's doing right now. He can imagine she'd think it was her fault. She reminds him of Sansa, that's the thing, and that makes the thought of breaking her heart intolerable.

(The fact his uncle Edmure keeps sneaking shy glances at her also helps.)

At some point, a singer appears. Robb blinks, not sure if the man was there the whole time or if he just arrived, but either way people are moving to dance and – oh no.

Sure enough, the girls all stare at him expectantly. He's meant to ask one of them to dance. And usually, he likes dancing, but _now_...

He gets up and flees. Unfortunately, he can't flee very far, just to the other side of the room. Still, he leans his boiling brow against the cold stone wall, and keeps his front to it, afraid even his thick leather tunic can only conceal so much.

There's a tap on his shoulder. He expects it to be his mother, worried about him again, but when he turns his head he sees one of the Frey girls. The widow. Ami, he thinks her name is. She's not as pretty in the face as sweet Roslin is, she bears an unfortunate resemblance to her whatever-Lord-Walder-is-to-this-one, but she has long legs and large breasts that he can imagine many men would prefer anyway. In truth, most of these girls seem prettier than his mother described them as, but that might just be Robb's arousal speaking and lowering his standards.

“Your Grace?” the girl asks. “Is something the matter? I hope my cousins and I didn't displease you.”

He shakes his head. “Oh no, not at all my lady,” he says, ever wary of his courtesies. “I was just... feeling a little flushed, that's all.”

A pause, and then this girl smirks, in a way that reminds him unnervingly of Theon. “Well in that case,” she says, voice dropping to a whisper, “why don't we go talk outside? The fresh air will do you good.”

Robb hears some sighs and titters from the crowd, but he ignores them. “A-aye, alright,” he says. Frankly, he just needs to escape somehow, and hopefully he can lose this girl and get himself off before he has to return.

She grins and takes his hand, marching him across the hall. Robb notes his mother shooting him a mildly alarmed look.

* * *

Losing her proves easier said than done, as she keeps up a light chat as they walk the grounds. Robb is too distracted to be a very compelling conversationalist, but she doesn't seem to mind. Still, being out in the cool air does help some, even though walking still makes the plug shift and press in ways that having him balling a fist to smother moans, and more than anything he wishes Jon and Theon were here to bend him over and fuck him right in front of her – still, Robb does his best to pay some attention to poor Ami. After awhile, he even thinks to ask: “Wait, where are we going?”

“The stables,” she says, with no further explanation. Robb stops, and blushes.

“M-my lady,” he says, and she frowns, “I'm – not really up to riding at the moment.”

She smiles apologetically. “That's alright,” she says. “But... would you like to come with me?” A pause. “ _You_ don't have to ride.”

Robb doesn't fully understand, but he keeps following her, if only so he doesn't have to return to the hall. As soon as the stable doors close behind him, he's against a wall and there are lips upon his own. He jumps in surprise, but his cock, having been strained to the point of torture for hours, immediately surges forward at the feel of a warm body against his own – and it takes every drop of strength there is in Robb to push her away. “Ami!”

“What?” she asks innocently, and then a look of realisation crosses her face. “Oh – don't worry, Your Grace. This isn't some trick to ensnare you. I – I know you're too good for me.” A tinge of sadness enters her voice. “I can't pretend you have to wed me to save my honour. My honour's long gone, I'm afraid. But still,” she smiles again, “you're a very handsome man, Robb Stark. I'd like to have my share of you, while you're still available.”

Robb gasps. Technically, everyone knows he's here to fuck one of the Frey girls, and so surely Jon and Theon couldn't be too mad about his unfaithfulness – but he's only meant to fuck the girl after he marries her, and...

“I can leave you a maid for your wedding night, if that's what's worrying you.”

Robb doesn't understand at first, but then she's on her knees before him and _oh_. “I-it's not that,” he says as her fingers find his length through the tunic, and she smirks as even through all his fabric she can feel how hard he is. She then pushes it up out of the way. _Damn it Theon._ “It's just – I'm meant to pick a girl to marry, but – there's people who'd be – unhappy – if I was with – someone else–”

Ami pauses while she's in the middle of undoing his laces. “A mistress?” she asks.

He whimpers. “Not – as such,” he says, and Ami then unlaces him properly, pulling his length out and it's obscenely wet, obscenely hard, and he can hardly blame the girl for thinking that's for her. “But I still – shouldn't–” But he can't help rocking back against the stable doors, driving the plug further into him, while she starts to stroke his cock.

She just tugs his breeches down to his knees at that, and Robb gasps as he feels himself exposed to the cold air. But not just that. Ami's eyes go wide, and Robb realises – with her holding his cock up and out of the way, she can see the base of the plug jutting out of him. Fuck.

He expects her to immediately recoil in disgust, but instead she just sits there, chewing her lip. “Not a mistress,” she murmurs. Then she looks up and meets his eye. “Did a man put that in you, Your Grace?”

Robb makes a choked noise, nods, and is rewarded by her stroking his cock faster. He moans, still thinking he should push her away, but his body seems entirely out of his control now.

“Did he fuck you first?” she asks, almost innocently.

He groans and nods, but after a second, he thinks he owes her the full truth (or that she'll reward him for it). “They both did,” he says. She makes a surprised noise. “Two men filled my arse, my lady, and then they plugged me up to keep both their loads of come inside me.”

Ami gives a small delighted gasp, and Robb can see her spare hand rubbing at herself through her skirts. “One after another? Or...” She lets go of his cock so he can prod at where the plug enters his hole with her fingers. “You're so loose, Your Grace. Have you just had two cocks in your arse at the same time?”

He gasps. “Aye.” And she _moans_ , leaning forward so she can suck the the head of his cock, while her fingers scramble to take ahold of the base of his plug.

“I've always wanted two cocks in my arse,” she murmurs against the length of him, and Robb trembles, unwittingly thrusting forward to try and get her lips wrapped around him again. “But I've never managed more than one in each hole. You'll have to teach me the trick.”

Robb can't manage a coherent response to that, especially not when she takes hold of the plug and starts fucking him with it. He whines and squirms desperately. “Is one of them that bastard brother of yours?” And Robb makes an alarmed noise. Even if she doesn't mind his deviancy, the incest is another matter entirely. “Meaning no offense, Your Grace, it's just – bastard cock is the _best_ cock. Especially in my arse. It always feels so dirty, I just love it... if he was my brother, I'm not sure I could resist.”

He chokes on his own slaver. “Yeah, Jon's cock is... oh...” she giggles as she sucks and kisses along the length of him, and he moans as he thrusts back down onto the plug. “But Theon is also... _oh_...”

“The Greyjoy boy?” she asks, and he nods. She shrugs. “Well, I've never had an ironborn. Oh, I bet it's good though. Does he ravish you like a saltwife, Your Grace?”

In truth, Theon's often as eager to be ravished as he is, but it seems almost a violation of his trust to explain that to this nigh-stranger, so instead he just nods.

Ami grins. “I bet they'll be angry if they learn I sucked your cock, won't they?” she whispers. “I bet they'll bend you over and fuck you _so hard_ , with both their cocks, harder than they did this morning. They'll show you who you belong to, won't they?”

Robb moans and arches toward her. “Hopefully,” he gasps. “Of course, that requires you actually sucking my cock first.”

She giggles at that. “Your wish is my command, Your Grace,” she says, and before knows it she's got her mouth all over his length, swallowing him down to the root, and he figured she was experienced but _gods._ Even Jon doesn't suck cock quite like this. Robb can whine and thrust into her mouth, down her throat, while she still fucks him with Theon's toy and it doesn't take more than a few seconds before he comes, hard, his seed dripping out in a mess down her chin.

He feels guilty as she coughs a little around the fluid, but she doesn't stop fucking him with the plug, leaving him shuddering through after shocks, nor does she stop rubbing herself through her dress – until she gasps around his length, shakes all over, and then releases with a trembling cry.

They're both red-faced and panting once they finally disentangle themselves, and Robb does not know how he'll explain this once they inevitably have to return to the castle proper. However, she's already reaching for a cloth to clean herself up with, and Robb realises he's not the first man he's brought here for that sort of thing.

He sighs, his cock finally getting some proper relief, and Ami eyes between his legs as she finally gets to her feet. “Let me guess, you're not meant to take that out until you get back to them?” she says, sympathetic.

Robb shakes his head. “I mean, they didn't say so aloud, but – I think it was implied.” She nods along, and now able to think somewhat straighter, Robb frowns at her. “I'm really not shocking you, am I?” he asks. “I mean – you don't think I'm disgusting? For fucking two men, one of whom's my brother?”

“Not at all, Your Grace,” she grins. “In truth, I think you're very lucky. Such a lucky slut. I'd _love_ to have two men to do that to me.” A pause. “Alright, in truth: three.”

Robb coughs. “In that case... perhaps we could come to some sort of arrangement?”

* * *

His choice takes everyone by surprise. He hears whispers from his men, but he does his best to act like he doesn't. His mother looks bemused, and quietly whispers to him that if he's worried about the girl's honour, he probably doesn't need to be, but she quickly gives up, knowing how stubborn he is. Robb expected all that, and made his decision regardless. It's worth it. And at least Uncle Edmure seems pleased, and Roslin grins shyly at him when he waves at her before they leave.

What he's not expecting, however, is Jon to be so angry at him. “Really, Robb? Gatehouse Ami?!” he asks, scowling, pacing back and forth even while Robb is bent over the bed so Theon can finally get this fucking plug out of his arse. “You've replaced us with the biggest slut in the Seven Kingdoms.” Robb frowns. He's not sure why it makes any difference to Jon which of the Frey girls he weds – and if he's going to marry her, he shouldn't let people call her a slut, except for when she wants them to. But then Jon carries on. “Is that what we are to you?”

_Jon, no,_ Robb wants to say, but before he can Theon chuckles. “Easy, Snow. Don't take it personal. He probably didn't even notice,” he says, and Robb gasps as Theon starts to pull he toy out and the widest part of it stretches his hole. “She probably acted like he'd taken her maidenhead, made him think he had to preserve her honour. Hey, he'd fall for it.”

Robb groans as the toy pops out of his hole, leaving him loose and empty. When he looks over his shoulder, he can see the same burning jealousy in Theon's eyes as there is in Jon's. He groans again, louder. “You're both thick.”

Jon and Theon share a puzzled look at that, and Robb sighs deeply. “I chose her because she communicated to me, she wouldn't _mind_ me keeping you two in my bed,” he explains, deciding to leave out the whole story of how she communicated that, and how the subject came up. At least for now. “And, given she's been generous enough to share, the least you could do is not insult her.”

They share an even more confused look, and after a moment, Theon speaks. “Why?” he asks.

Robb frowns. “Because I love you two. Idiots.”

“No, he means, why would she do that?” Jon asks, frowning deeply. “Robb, are you sure she doesn't want something from you?”

And Robb hesitates a moment.

“Admittedly, she did have... one condition.”

* * *

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Robb mutters as his lady wife bounces up and down enthusiastically on his cock. To be fair, he's sure Ami would be saying something very similar, were her mouth not full of Theon's cock. But she feels so _tight_ , ever more so for Jon fucking her arse at the same time. Theon was disappointed by that at first, since he wanted her arse once Robb explained he wouldn't let either of them have her cunt until he was sure he'd gotten an heir on her, but well, Ami _did_ say how much she loved bastard cock in her arse. And Theon doesn't seem to be complaining now.

In truth, Jon and Theon have spent so many weeks fucking him to make up for the fear of losing him, Robb almost forgot how nice it can be to do the fucking sometimes.

He meets Ami's movements as fast as hard as he can, and when he feels her start to tremble as she peaks on all their cocks – for the third time – he groans and feels himself start to release, filling her with his seed. Robb hopes he gets her pregnant soon. Leaving aside the political implications, he's sure his lady wife would love it if they managed to fit two cocks in her cunny.

Jon follows him shortly after, spending with a long, low groan, his seed running down her thighs from her arse and mixing with Robb's own. Theon is the last, grinning all the while as he fucks her throat, and Ami swallows eagerly and licks her lips after, like she can't get enough.

After, at first they all just collapse, exhausted. Still, eventually they all manage to line up side by side in his king's bed. Robb finds himself with Jon wound around his back on his left, and Ami clinging to his chest on his right. Theon kisses along her neck on her right. Ami kisses Robb, and he moans at the taste of Theon's come on her lips. She pulls away, giggling.

“Your cock feels so good inside me, my lord husband,” she tells him, and Robb's cock twitches. “I understand how much you love these two fucking you, but still – do tell me they get that length inside them also sometimes.”

Robb blushes, and behind her, Theon laughs. “Oh, don't worry, my lady – Your Grace,” he says. “He gives it to us as hard as we give it to him.”

“But admittedly, not that recently, since – well, we've been jealous,” Jon admits. “I'm sorry Robb.”

“Don't worry about it,” Robb shakes his head. It all worked out in the end, didn't it? And it might never have without Theon's little game with the plug. Not that he's going to tell Theon that.

“Well, fair enough,” says Ami, grinning at Jon over his shoulder. “Tell you what, once you boys are ready again, how about you fuck him while he fucks me?” Jon makes a choked noise. “And Theon... would you like to fuck my arse at the same time? I feel bad you missed out on it last time.”

A pause, and then Theon laughs. “Yeah, sure,” he says. “I'll admit, when he chose you, he surprised us, but I'm seeing the upsides now.” Ami grins at that. “Although, you two are probably going to breed the sluttiest king the North's ever known.”

“Theon!” Jon chides him for that, and Robb turns red. But Ami just laughs. And in truth, Theon might have a point.

But still, there are worse things.

 


End file.
